Sylvara's Rebirth: A New Dawn for Abel novel Chapter 73

**Chapter 73: Challenge Issued**

Did she remind her?

If Sylvara had even the slightest inkling that the so-called ‘traditional event’ was nothing more than a brawl, she would have flat-out refused to step onto that stage as the Chief.

Veyric nodded with a weighty seriousness. “Exactly. Just think for a moment. When I discovered you had been appointed Chief of the Agriculture Department, didn’t I remind you how crucial it was to cling to that title? You couldn’t allow anyone to take it from you, not for a second?”

Sylvara tilted her head, pondering his words. Yes, that did strike a familiar chord… but how was that even relevant to her current predicament?

Noticing her silence, Veyric straightened his posture, puffing out his chest as if he held the moral high ground. “Come on, give it another thought. Didn’t I make it clear that you needed to graduate with that Chief title? That way, you’d be eligible to settle on a planet ranked Fifth Sector or higher?”

Sylvara nodded slowly. “Right, you did mention that.”

Wiping the cold sweat that had formed on his forehead, Veyric exhaled a sigh of relief. “There you go. That was the crux of it. My point was to maintain an iron grip on that Chief title. You need to crush anyone who dares to challenge your authority. I thought I had made it abundantly clear. Who would have guessed your comprehension skills were so lacking?”

“Tsk.” Sylvara clicked her tongue in annoyance, interlocking her fingers and cracking them in a smooth, satisfying motion. “Veyric, you really take the cake. I just taught you how to develop a thicker skin, and what do you do? You turn it back on me. At this rate, I’ll be the one left face-down in the sand.”

Veyric flashed a genuine smile, his eyes crinkling like a baby deer. “No way… never. Why would I ever put you in the sand? By the way, that fruit you gave me the other day—where did you get it? Next time, I’ll treat you.”

“Yeah, how about you treat yourself to some candy that tastes like absolute garbage?” Sylvara retorted, pulling her legs in, standing up, and brushing off nonexistent dust from her pants. “I’m done. You can play your little game all you want. I’m out.”

She was absolutely finished.

If someone else had such a burning desire for the Chief role, they could have it.

There was no way she could allow her cover to be compromised.

God only knew what kind of chain reaction that would set off.

At this moment, she had no political backing to speak of. Her bargain-bin husband was stuck far away on Kolar 1/3, and to make matters worse, he was hell-bent on divorcing her.

If, by some unfortunate twist of fate, people discovered that she had a 100% fertility rating, zero genetic breakdown, and a perfectly controlled plant-type mental-energy signature? She’d either be stuck laboring endlessly like a human tractor or popping out kids one after another like some premium breeding stock.

The worst-case scenario? She’d be farming and giving birth simultaneously.

Absolutely tragic.

Nope.

Too risky.

Her life had to come first.

Her life, without a doubt, had to take precedence.

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